Evolve
by Palaemona
Summary: She's strong enough for everyone to leave, and strong enough to burrow her roots into the Earth deep enough to soar.


**Evolve**

_She's strong enough for everyone to leave, and strong enough to burrow her roots into the Earth deep enough to soar._

…

_{frail}_

…

She sits quietly, with her hands neatly folded on her lap. Her pale eyes were shut, and rose lips settled in neither a smile, nor a frown.

She remained still.

She allowed the servant to continue to pull the lulling brush through her long hair, and comb out the tangles softly. She allowed the cool breeze to glide over her pale skin, making her shut eyes flicker slightly.

Her mother's voice had cut roughly across the serene room, like a jagged piece of glass. "Perhaps we should send her to the Jade Institute. They've been known far and wide for the work they have done to the Earth Lady's niece."

She schooled her features into an unbreakable mask, pretending she is a mere statue. A statue made of rock that would never erode or weaken to time. She imagines smooth marble or blunt granite. Something strong enough to never break way.

The servant's brushing begins to be a bit more forceful, but she says nothing.

"Her niece was deaf." Her father refuses the notion with immediate disdain, like a rusted nail breaking through flesh. "While just as regrettable, Toph is different. They wouldn't be suited to handle such a frail creature."

Toph held back a flinch, forcing her lungs to inhale. The vibrations of the air flow within her, calming her slowly.

"Perhaps maybe sending her to your Great Aunt? She might be more prepared to handle such a thing." Poppy murmurs, razor sharp words softly spoken in the large room. "After all, you and I are both beings of the social world. We have little time devoting to her weaknesses."

_Weaknesses_. Toph knows her age is of only six years, but she also knows one thing.

She hates her damn parents.

_She will be strong. _

…

_{ruthless}_

…

She escapes to a world of underground madness and blood. She is the winner, the champion. The victor of glory, with her name whispered within the cavern.

She's become a being of power and force, ripping through opponents with subtle ease. The world is her kingdom, and she manipulates it to her pleasing. Her bare feet glide across the worn stone, rubble smoothed with her wishes. Toph remains a mere child, carving her legacy within time.

She's the master of the arena, carving her legacy within each victory. They know her by her face and power.

She feels stronger now, becoming a hero in a masked world.

The Blind Bandit. A strong name for a strong being of strength.

Toph's stronger now, but not strong enough.

She's not worried, though. Because she will become stronger. She'll become strong enough to take on the entire world and win. She refuses to take any less. She's a bloody Bei Fong.

She's heartless and ruthless down to the very core.

…

_{coward}_

…

Toph had slipped away into the shadows at nightfall, feeling the darkness engulf her steady form. The ground rippled beneath each and every footstep, and the wind had blown at her back. She's a coward, slipping away into the night. Not even the guts to attempt to scrawl out a message or a note, promising to come back.

_(Even if she did write one, it'd be a lie. They all know she's never coming home.)_

She left without looking back.

"Do you regret it?" Aang asks her, sometimes. When there's nothing more than silence and smoke, and the comfort of the night to embrace themselves within. "Leaving?"

She stiffens, again and again. "No." She forces the burning air into her lungs, until the vibrations make her shudder.

"I do." He comments softly, words snatched away by the wind. "At least, when everything is done, you can go back home." Toph imagines the night sky, unfolding into the universe with dancing moonbeams her mother used to whisper to her about.

She turns her head away. Katara and Sokka murmur in hushed tones, the bonds of family evident between one another. They rest behind the two, leaned up against the soft furs. "No, Aang. I'm never coming home again."

She's a coward. The world has little place for cowards.

...

_{dancer}_

…

She glides over stone, lifting herself higher and higher into the air. Stone cuts her bare feet, leaving a trail of rubble and blood in her wake. Her breathing burns her lungs, and her vision is a mindless assault of echoes and vibrations, scripting out a world of wreckage.

They watch her, flow in a way they had never seen before. She's creating art within the ground, feeling the bedrock rush to the surface, and the soil dust her skin lightly.

Her earth holds the sky, allows fire to reign over, and water to breach its shores. Her earth is strong enough to hold everything upon it, and defend it all to the very last breath.

She's blind and underestimated, but she swears the Gods, she will drag every threat to hell with her. She found her place next to the Avatar and the Water Tribe warriors. She's become something more to them, and they've been morphed into something more to her. She would die so willingly for them.

Her flesh is bruised, feet weary. She struggles for momentum, legs shaking beneath her weight. She sways as she tilts the world forth. The Ground shudders and shakes beneath her control and her limbs trembles as she lifts the slabs of rocks higher and higher.

Her hair tumbles lose, whipping to and from freely. She's something they haven't seen before. She took her mother's gift, and morphed it into a being far greater. She evolves in the dirt, shaping her form through thick rock. Toph is hectic, weaving a strange pattern. The world bends to her desire.

So restrained yet uncontrollable. She's dancing to the beat of the Earth.

…

_{captive}_

…

She's betrayed.

Toph is surrounded by the metal, encasing her body. It traps and snares her within it, holding her captive. She slams fists against strong steel, echoes flittering through the air. It confuses her, the solid sounds they make. Like a drum, bloodied with war.

She strikes down again, listening harder. She can hear the footsteps or the fleeing, running away from the heat of battle. Again and again she strikes, frantic breathing filling her. The echoes grow, and she begins to understand.

It's streamlined and smooth. She's manipulating the element to her will, weakening its resolve to defy her wishes. "Let me out." She whispers, her words mingling with the echoes softly.

She hits harder, bruising her fist harshly. The throbbing of her hands means little to Toph and the bloody knuckles mean even less. "LET ME OUT!" She screams; filling her entire being with the strength burrowed within her.

She is forcing her way out with the force of her strength, demanding that this defiant element bow to her.

She's never going back again.

…

_{warrior}_

…

She crushes her opponents with ease, forcing them down into the earth. Doesn't kill, never kill.

Just badly maims and injures, and leave them to their own bloody fate. Whether they die or not, is up to them.

Zuko fights next to her, and the heat of his fire only strengthens her force. She's a warrior, ripping through the land. Her strength is lava and hellfire, wielded like a double edged sword. Every rock she hurls at her victim renews her strength, and the maimed screams become her battle cry.

She's a brave little soldier girl, burrowed within rock and metal, surrounded by flames. Untouchable, unmoveable.

She's stronger now.

She's become one of fate, tied to the world. The world fills her with its devastation, and she reaps what was sowed. The passion fills her, toes brushing against bedrock, hands slamming against boulder. Her heart pounds, eyes narrowed in eternal defiance.

They'll pay for daring to strike her. Her flesh burns and blisters, and when it does burn and blister, bad things happen. She gets angry.

She's a damn warrior now, an image painted with blood of her victims.

…

_{tortured}_

…

Her body slides over cool metal, bare toes and fingers struggling to hold on. The air is like a bitter knife, resentful and deadly. Below her is the unknown, and above her are the enemy.

She curves the metal to her advantage, peeling it backwards. It's jagged and rough, like a blade. Her movements are forced, because everyone tortures her very being. The fear presses her soul, the weight of the world holding down on her shoulders. She shall tears these metal beasts out of the skies, and send them to a fiery death.

They only live as a never ending threat to her new family. She'll kill them all to defend this creation. She loves the rush of adrenaline that surges through her veins, and she loves the thick ash like dust that settles upon the strewn rubble. The rocky pebbles that rest on shorelines and the shield that even wind cannot penetrate through.

But she loves Sokka and Katara so much more, and Aang and Zuko. She's a tortured soul within a tortured body. She craves the heat of the war most, but the soft flames of family create an everlasting attraction.

She's a tortured soul, tumbling over metal. The wind snatches hold of her, and she's falling all the way down to hell, when a grip like steel grabs her.

She's not dying yet.

…

_{finished}_

…

The war is finished.

She is finished.

…

_{becoming}_

…

Sokka leaves first, trailing after Suki. Her world falls blankly, and she feels lost. Katara leaves second, with Aang grasping tightly to her hand. She begins to fall apart, grasping feverishly at the beat of the Earth. She never goes home, and never looks back. Zuko follows her, a steady flame in her darkness.

She's free now, and she'll die before they clip her wings again.

She wanders the world, skating upon rock. Her feet become rough as stone itself, and her skin becomes paler. She's twirling madly, flinging wreckage at her will. Her mother would cry at the image. Hair torn free from its clip, and bits of sand clinging to the strands. Her clothes become torn and tattered, revealing glimpse of a being so undiscovered.

The fates created her, designing her to a world of war and freedoms. They created an image within her, stronger and weaker, moulded together by blood and harmony. Destruction runs through her veins, with the coward's intentions hidden deep within. She becomes balanced with darkness and light, and attuned with the pulse of the earth.

…

_{frightened}_

…

The nights grow long, and she becomes a child. She's lost, struggling to find her path. The world dims to her, and she finds need. Her family has grown up and left her, busy with their own lives. Fate leaves her to discover a world so frigid, and she becomes hollow.

She becomes battered, so numb so lost.

She wanders home, because her body is so torn and tattered. Zuko follows of course, in the shadows. He lets her carve her own path free from defeat. He knows her fears and her pains. He had a family that tried so hard to kill him.

He's not stupid. Nor is he blind.

She goes home to burnt ashes and charred rubble. Her parents are gone, and she can't find a single trace. She cries, howling with grief. The skies do not answer.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have waited so long." Zuko comments softly.

She leaves the next day.

…

_{reunited}_

…

Katara arranges the GAang to regroup. She tracks Toph down from the far side of the Earth, and corners Zuko to demand he gift them with his presence. She returns, for the sake of it. They hug her and kiss her cheeks, and comments on her worn figure.

She says nothing.

They invite her home, but she refuses the options. They had abandoned her so easily first time; she refused to allow another chance. Her heart is broken, but stitched together. _Fragile_.

She hates them for breaking her open. For leaving her so unwanted.

She defined herself to the hard world. She has no time to go back.

Her womb is swollen slightly, life building within.

She doesn't need them.

Reuniting the heroes was far to overrated, after all. She was just fine on her own.

…

_{defiant she falls}_

…

She had become a being of superior strength. She had been a mere being of force, cementing her past to her future. Her parents are dead, ashes to the wind. Abandoned by those who she would have died for. She's fine now, though.

"You've been gone for a long time." Zuko tells her, voice soft and soothing. "Could have sent word."

She sighs. "I've learnt some stuff along the way."

Her child wails, and the vibrations curve her sight along. The entire world lies beyond her walls, waiting. She shivers as the coldness burrows into her bones, whispering lies to her.

"You've learnt stuff?" He sounds exasperated and weary. Old.

"Yeah. I've found out everything I am." Toph smiles. The sun beams its way through the glass, warming her to her core. It reminds her of cranberry tea, scorching hot. She relishes the burning sensation, and the peace that follows.

He frowns, looking down at the woman she's so suddenly turned into. "Good luck with that, Toph." He leaves her to Lin, the small child's need for love. She doesn't mind him leaving, because all the rest already have left her.

She's strong now. She can take on the world, and crush it to dust. She can face opponents and leave them struggling for breath. _She's strong enough for everyone to leave, and strong enough to burrow her roots into the Earth deep enough to soar. _


End file.
